The Waiting Game
by LilyAvalia
Summary: At night however, when the lights were off and her guard let down, the rusty memories cautiously sniffed the air and, finding their cages unlocked and unattended, slithered into her dreams.
1. Platform

Hermione had given up a long time ago. Well, seven years ago to be exact. Seven years, two months, and a day to be absurdly exact. The first few years were the hardest. The empty spaces were lost in a whirlwind of activity, which suited her perfectly. At night however, when the lights were off and her guard let down, the rusty memories cautiously sniffed the air and, finding their cages unlocked and unattended, slithered into her dreams.

Again she stood at the train station, leaning against a dirty light post that left a long smudge down the back of her tattered coat. Her wild honey-brown frizz flew into her face as she puller her coat zipper high and readjusted her scarf. It was unseasonably cold even in her dream, so real that she shivered and pulled the covers closer.

On the platform businessmen in stiff suits marched briskly, their hands clutching impossibly shiny brief cases while tired workers trudged to their posts. Checking her watch with an air of exasperation, she noticed her lunch date was late. Ron was always late, but this time she had some big news.

Yes, she and Ron had been drifting apart since he and Lavender became serious. But he was always there to consul her as she struggled to break up with Dean Thomas and she was there to listen while he gushed of Lavender's beauty or spend time with Lavender when Ron couldn't. Those conversations were never enjoyable for Hermione. She sat and listened while Lavender conspiratorially confided in Hermione the enjoyment the two lovers had in each other's body.

Hermione took Lavender in stride, both confused in Ron's love for her and admiring his tolerance. A few times Ron had been called from being with Hermione to calm a hysterical Lavender and assure her that Hermione and he had no romantic involvement. These episodes followed with a few days of separation but the two friends never missed their Thursday lunch, quiet and formal as they may have become.

As Ron and Lavender became more entangled in each other's lives, Hermione found herself more as a fixture of convenience for Lavender. In their sixth year, Lavender decided to graduate from Hogwarts early to pursue a doomed career as a designer. Now convinced that Ron and Hermione would never be romantically connected, Lavender arranged the two's social lives to her liking. Ron accompanied Hermione to the seventh year ball at Lavender's decision only to leave Hermione alone in the middle of the dance floor after the first three songs. Apparently their love was too impatient and Ron needed to be with Lavender in her Hogsmead apartment.

They rarely spoke outside their lunch date, which Lavender could hardly know of. In their group of friends they subtly avoided each other's eyes and never made direct contact. Their icy gap was ignored by the other students and even failed to put a stop to some rather nasty rumors of the two's love. Rumors Lavender never missed.

Twenty minutes late and Hermione began to worry. Ron was never this late without notice. Maybe she could guilt her way into a free lunch. Five minutes later found her sitting on the hard bench next to the gate. Another three and she started to imagine seeing his figure. She started from her daydream when a small, excitable owl landed on her leg. She blinked and hesitantly reached for the tightly wound note on Pigwidgeon's leg. She read the note, laughed harshly, and appearated to her flat in Diagon Alley to pack, leaving behind two pieces of paper. The first was a tightly folded and slightly worn piece of office paper:

_Miss Granger,_

_Congratulations! After an extensive search, we are proud to offer you the position of ambassador to the Muggle London. You come with very high expectations and we are sure you will rise to the challenge. The relationship between our two ministries has been tested these past two years and you are a wonderful representation of the welcome the wizarding world would like to convey to its neighbors. If you will have it, the job begins next Tuesday with an introduction to the Muggle Ministry. In an effort to promote inclusion, we prefer that you assimilate yourself into a Muggle lifestyle and refrain from unnessesary and extravagant displays of magic. A Muggle flat is being prepared for you. Enclosed you will find the key and the address._

_Congratulations again,_

_K. Shaklebolt_

_Minister of Magic_


	2. Brown Eyes Blue

Hermione enjoyed her job in the Muggle ministry, thankless though it maybe. Her daily tasks ranged from cleaning the coffee maker to fixing the fireplace for the floo network. Over the years she had kept in touch with her Hogwarts friends, expecting Ron who was now just a name avoided when reminiscing.

Shortly after her messy split with Dean, Hermione began seeing Oliver Wood. He had returned to Hogwarts to referee the Quiddich matches after Madame Hootch fell from her broom and broke her pelvis. The two were a bit of a scandal but the talk only lasted until Hermione graduated. She convinced Oliver to move into her apartment and there they stayed. Oliver complimented Hermione: even-tempered to her quick fuse, calm to her impatience, messy to her neatness. After seven years, the two subtly hinted at the idea of marriage, but neither was bold enough to ask the other, a frustrating matter to Hermione's mother.

Oliver had since resigned from professional Quiddich and had enlisted in Mediwizard training at St. Mungo's. He had grown tall and lean with curly brown hair and muddy blue eyes, which contrasted with Hermione. She had stopped growing after 16, just reaching 5'5". Her hair had lost its dark color and bleached in the sun. Thankfully the frizz had also been lost with maturation. And as if the hair wasn't enough, her honey eyes were no longer honey. Months after the two had moved in together, Oliver had brought home a homework assignment, just a simple cell on which to practice DNA manipulation. This also happened to be their one-year anniversary. Hermione had jumped onto his back in way of greeting, Oliver let loose a color changing spell which reflected on the hall mirror, and hit Hermione. Thankfully, only her eyes were affected. Where there was once a warm brown now was a light blue. Oliver joked that it was his present to her for their anniversary. Finding no way out of this change, Hermione resigned herself to her new eye color.


	3. Reason

After graduation, Hermione and Harry grew close. Oliver was understanding of their friendship, even if he sometimes felt a little jealous. Harry and Ginny still danced around each other, but Ginny seemed to be doing more of the dancing. Harry had decided not to go back to Hogwarts after he defeated Voldemort. With special permission from the Minister of Magic, Harry immediately enrolled in Auror training. But to the surprise of the wizarding world, he left after a little under a year of training. Hermione was one of few people who knew his reasons.

-------------------

The two sat in a back corner of the Hog's Head. Their faces were drawn and Harry's eyes were filled with tears. Hermione reached her arm around his slumped shoulders.

"Harry, you haven't disappointed anyone. This is your life. You don't have to live for other people. Live for yourself."

"I know it sounds easy, but I can't forget the looks of the other trainees when I announced I was leaving. I feel like I've made a terrible choice," his shoulders fell a little more while Hermione mapped out a new argument.  
"Doing what you want is never a terrible choice. Anyway, if you have to choose between your celebrity and your sanity, sanity is the hands down winner," she smiled a little as she attempted to make him feel better. He recognized her effort and gave her a half-hearted smile.

Seeing her opening, Hermione quickly asked a question she had been mulling over. "Harry, did you ever tell them about the Azcaban prisoner?"

Immediately his face fell. "How could I? Kingsley has made amazing steps as a minister and the last thing I want to happen is for the wizards to lose faith in him. The corruption will take a while to clear from the system, even for all the good work being done. I don't want this whole thing falling on Kingsley's head."

Hermione loved Harry for his many good traits, but none so much as his empathy for others. Still, sometimes he was a little too forgiving. "You can't expect this to avoid attention. The other Aurors are bound to find out that the Veritus serum they are using has been tampered with. I wish you could have gotten some. I wonder how they did it. Manipulating the delicate recipe must have taken an enormous amount of skill. The wizard who did it must be a genius with potions."

Harry's face turned red and he pushed Hermione's arm off his shoulders. "Stop. You sound like you are supporting what he did! I witnessed an innocent man put to the dementor's kiss while his family watched! Any man who can condemn an innocent bystander as his scapegoat deserves the worst this life has to offer."

In a typical-Hermione manner, "How do you know it was a man? Women are equally talented in the arts of potions. Maybe even more so!"

Harry's eyes darkened. "It was a man. Short with sunken black eyes and a burn mark on his right forearm."

"How can you know that, unless…"

A moment of silence passed between the two while Hermione digested this new piece of information. Harry turned away and paid their bill. Standing up, he looked for a while at Hermione. "Thanks for always being there, Hermione."

Harry turned around and exited the pub, leaving Hermione alone to think.

-------------------

Years later, the two were still close. Harry and Hermione had "Muggle Mondays" where the two would go to a movie or a muggle museum for the day. Oliver tried to understand the attraction of these outings but stopped coming after the third Monday. After Hermione's insistence, Oliver and Harry became closer friends. They played Quiddich on the weekend and had a running game of wizard's chess running. After a muddy game (how they got muddy in the air, Hermione would never know) the two wizards would apperate to Hermione and Oliver's flat for dinner that Harry would make. Cooking became his comfort after being deprived of food for long stretches in his life. Oliver and Hermione would try to help out in the kitchen, but they hurt the meal more than helping it. Oliver was soon separated from the food and given a bottle of wine to open instead. Hermione was allowed to help, as long as she carried out Harry's instructions exactly.

And so the three became closely knit. Dinners were loud and happy, the floating lights above the table sparkling a bright yellow then blue then red and back again. The only problem was the unexpected story, when the boys would mention Ron's name and Hermione would clench her fists under the table. As the years went by, his name came up less and less, but did not disappear. Hermione knew that at least one day out of the season would be ruined by the ghost of her friendship that had died all those years ago.


	4. Rogue Car

"Hermione! Somebody's on the telephone for you! Says his name is Mr. Brett. I think he works for the muggle ministry. Should I say you're busy?" yelled Oliver.

"No thanks, I'll get it in here. You can hang up now"

Of course it did take Oliver over 2 minutes to actually hang up. He was hopeless with muggle technology. Hermione was still proud that he knew to _call_ it a telephone.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Granger, this is Mr. Brett. I work with the Department for Transport in London. I was told to call you. You see, we have heard rumors all day of some sort of altered car driving downtown. I'm not really sure why, but I was given your number and told you could help. Can you?"

"Well Mr. Brett, you haven't really explained the situation yet…" Hermione paused but Mr. Brett offered no answer, so she continued. "I'll do the best I can. Where are you?"

"I'm in my office, but the location of the car in question is a little foggy. Last I heard someone thought they saw it flying over the Tower. Obviously the credibility of that report must be lacking."

Hermione managed a natural laugh on the phone, "Of course, flying cars are rather hard to catch. I heard it took them over two weeks to corner Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!"

Her humor was lost on the muggle and after a moment of awkward silence, he wished her good luck. "And please keep my office informed of the measures you plan on taking."

"I will. Thank you." Hermione hung up the phone and finished getting dressed.

But as she buttoned her top, she thought of the only flying car she had ever heard of in the wizarding world: the Weasleys'. Suddenly dreading her assignment, she stalled as long as she could in the bathroom. Taking a second in the mirror, she applied the only makeup she owned—some brown mascara. Just in case. Not that she cared what he thought of him. She was over him. Completely.

Even her inner monologue had to roll its eyes.

-------------------

10 minutes later and Hermione was standing next to a 1968 Fiat 125: silver exterior, white tires, leather interior, a broken side view mirror, and a flaming redhead in the front seat.

George Weasley obviously spent his hard-earned money wisely.

"Hermione! What a pleasant surprise! And what brings your charming self to my humble company?"

"George, you flew a car upside-down, nearly taking out 3 streetlamps and clipping a double-decker. Did you really think no one would notice?"

"Alright, you've caught me. I just can't stand to be without you. My love drunk mind figured that this was the best way to find myself in your presence," George said while batting his eyes furiously in an attempt to make Hermione smile.

And he succeeded. Her serious work face melted into a reluctant smile.

"And that is what I came for. What do I owe the Ministry this time?" George asked.

"50 Galleons, as well as paying for damage to muggle property, and 20 hours of donated time towards the Ministry," Hermione recited off her clipboard.

"Merlin! Not even going to cut me a break are you? Ok, I agree if I can see your shining face at the Burrow for dinner one of these days. I know for a fact mum has been owling you and Wood about this for weeks."

"We'll see about that. Sign here George and drive carefully next time."

"I promise nothing," smirked George as he drove away, his exhaust expelling a sea of bubbles.

Hermione sighed and walked back to the apperating point. When she got there however, she decided to walk back to her flat. She was tired and wanted a few minutes to herself.

There was no way she was going to the Burrow. She loved the Weasley family, but was left with confusing feelings whenever she met one of their number.

Before her mind had cleared, her feet stopped and brought her to her own door. Slightly startled, she shook her head and opened the door.

"Olive! You here?"

"Yeah just a second, I'm sending off an owl."

Hermione sat down and picked up the forms for the trip she just made with George. Why he felt he needed to create more work for her, she had no idea.

Hermione bit her lip and scribbled some notes on the paper she had in front of her.

"I just owled the Weaslys. They asked if we could stop in for dinner this weekend."

"Oh I ca…"

"And before you say you can't, you should know that I already checked your time notebook **and **asked your boss if you could have this weekend off."

Hermione was shocked. One part of her brain was slightly impressed that Oliver had made a concrete decision so quickly and been so thorough in the follow through. Another part was screaming that the Weasly house was the last place she wanted to be. A rather stubborn part insisted that she didn't care at all and would love to see the Weaslys. And a very small part in the back was planning an outfit that would make her more attractive than she normally was. This was also the part of her mind that created all those nagging self-doubts.

-------------------

Hermione sat in the Great Hall surrounded with books and a plate of toast. Even with all her books, she couldn't focus her eyes on a book, a rare occasion. Her hair was in a rat's nest after numerous attacks from her quills and her hands fiddled with the fork next to her plate. A swift but light punch was directed at her arm.

"Hey Mione. Trying to memorize the books before classes start? Are you going to eat that?" Ron gestured at her uneaten toast. Before she could answer, he had snatched it up and swallowed it in a moment.

"Yeah, go ahead," she mumbled without lifting her eyes.

"Hello? No snarky comeback? Did you get an E on a test? Yeah, I wouldn't be eating either if I were you," Ron's attempt at a joke earned a small grunt from the bushy haired girl he was sitting next to.

"Worse, huh? Too bad." Ron turned to look directly at Hermione who didn't turn towards him. "Are you alright? Is this about when I hung out with Lavender even though we had plans? Because I asked you and you said it was fine."

"No, it's just me being dumb."

"I didn't think that was possible," Ron half smiled as he tried again to make Hermione smile. And again he was met with a scowl.

"Hilarious. Never mind. It's not important." Hermione made a halfhearted effort to gather her books but stopped when she felt Ron staring at her sternly.

"You aren't reading. This is obviously serious." Ron's eyes widened as he saw her necklace. Or rather, where her necklace used to be. "Mione, did you lose your locket? Is that what this is about?" Ron knew that Dean had gotten that as a gift for their one-year anniversary.

Hermione's hand flew to where the locket normally sat. "No, I just left it in the common room today. I didn't feel like wearing it…" she trailed off, not know what to say or whether she should give a reason. The two sat in silence as a few wandering students strolled around them. Summoning all her courage, Hermione voiced the thought she had been repressing for weeks. "Ron, I think Dean likes someone else but he won't admit it." Her voice came out in a rush and afterwards she looked at Ron for confirmation or comfort.

Unfortunately, Ron was oblivious and just sat there thinking over this information.

"I mean, he has been spending all this time with Padma and when I went to his room the other day her earrings were sitting there and he said she had just been napping there…" She was again met with silence. "Padma's really pretty too. Her hair probably doesn't need two hours of attention to calm down. And she really does have perfect skin. And big eyes. If I were a boy, I would like her more than me." Hermione hit rock bottom with this realization. Thankfully, Ron finally woke up from his daze.

"Stop it Hermione. You are definitely at least an 8." Ron was referring to rating things on a 1-10 scale. The two often did it with classes, dinners, books (Ron would get the plot notes from someone else). It was Hermione's turn to be speechless. No one, not even Dean, had ever referred to her as even remotely beautiful. And even though he hadn't actually used the word, Hermione felt equally dazed. Smiling, she decided to drop her problems for now. "And Lav lav, she would be?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Really Hermione, you should know that I will only associate myself with the very best," Ron said as he stood up from the table and winked at her. Her problem wasn't exactly solved, but it had been pushed back in her mind for another day.


	5. Dinner

Harry, Hermione and Oliver were standing in front of a recently painted Burrow. The new paint didn't really help, because family members got to choose the color outside their room. This resulted in a hodgepodge of brilliant green, shocking red, sparkling blue, dull grey, and a light periwinkle. The confusing colors brought a smile to the dinner guests' faces as the three wove through the bushes towards the front door.

Hermione's stomach was currently doing back flips, but she refused to let her discomfort be seen. Both Harry and Oliver knew a little of her break with Ron, but neither understood the impact it still had on her.

And so, holding Oliver's hand and catching Harry's smile, Hermione was about to face her inner demon.

"Harry! Hermione! Oliver! It's been too long! Harry, you look like a stick. Hurry up inside you three. I've got dinner on the stove and the rest of the family can't wait to see you."

Molly Weasley welcomed her guest in a whirlwind, giving strong hugs to them all and winking at Hermione. Opening the door a little wider, she bustled the three into the living room where Fred, George, Ginny and Arthur sat.

Hermione gave Harry a small smile. She knew that his breakup with Ginny had been years ago and that the two were still friends, but she knew the confusion he felt when he saw her. And when she noticed Ron's absence, her smile grew even wider and more self-assured.

Fred and George rose from the couch as one. Immediately the two grabbed Oliver's shoulders and began to talk Quiddich.

"Blimey! Did you see Puddlemere United flattens the Wasps? Bet that made you miss the old days."

"Tell us, what is Hailey Radford like?" This question, asked by George, was whispered with raised eyebrows and both he and Fred wore expressions of expectation.

Meanwhile, Hermione, Harry and Mr. Weasley were discussing Hermione's choice to live like a muggle, while Ginny skirted the outside of the conversation, trying to add points here and there.

"Now tell me. This 'bus' that you ride, how does it know when you need to be picked up?"

"Well isn't it just like the Night Bus?" asked Ginny.

Harry answered for Hermione, "Well yes and no. It looks a lot like the Night Bus, but you have to be standing at the right place at the right time. It has certain places it stops and you have to be there when it is, otherwise it leaves without you."

Hermione was grateful that Harry was fielding the questions. She loved talking with Mr. Weasley but sometimes she felt a little uncomfortable around Ginny.

When Harry and Ginny were first starting their relationship, the other dorm mates joked that Hermione was being replaced. Hermione laughed with the rest of them, but she was terrified that she _would_ be replaced by Ginny. From that moment on she couldn't be as supportive of their relationship and everyone else. When the two decided to break up, she was secretly pleased to have her old place back. Leaving them in their conversation, Hermione slipped into the kitchen to help Molly with dinner.

"Hi Molly. Need any help?"

"Oh hello dear. As a matter of fact I could use an extra hand with this soup. Won't stay at the right temperature!"

Hermione grabbed the apron from the closet and got to work.

When she and Ron still spoke, they would go to his house and bake. Or more specifically, she would bake while he ate the batter and made the utensils dance. Molly often said that there was never a better time than when she came downstairs to a freshly baked batch of muffins.

"Hermione, where are you?" Oliver's voice traveled into the kitchen.

"I'll be right back Mrs. Weasley. I think the soup should be fine if you leave the lid on."

"Thank you dear. Don't worry about coming back. I'm almost done in here. Could you send the twins in to set the table?"

"Sure thing." Hermione walked back into the living room where Oliver was standing next to Mr. Weasley, seemingly still carrying on the muggle life discussion.

"Fred and George, your mum wants you to help set the table," reported Hermione.

"Well I suppose we must. Come on Freddy, mustn't upset the warden." The two walked out of the room, leaving Harry and Ginny alone on the couch. Hermione glanced disapprovingly but went and stood next to Oliver who put his arm around her.

"So how are you two doing?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Really well. Oliver just got a promotion to lead MediWizard, which is a really big deal," bragged Hermione.

"Yeah, it's not that important," Oliver tried to play down the focus on him.

"Well that is just great. You two are living together still, right?"

Hermione laughed, "Yep, 6 years in the next few weeks. Time really flies."

"And are there wedding bells on the horizon?" Mr. Weasley asked a little to enthusiastically.

Hermione and Oliver looked at each other. Oliver decided to answer first. "Well you never know. Things are looking pretty good right now, so we'll see."

"You know, you two are just great. This whole thing is terrific," Mr. Weasley said.

"Dinner!"

As the gathering sat, who should burst through the fireplace but the one person Hermione didn't want to see: Ron. He had cut his hair very short, a sight that secretly disappointed Hermione and made her laugh since now he looked like a rather frightening convict.

"Sorry I'm late, just had to calm down the animals before I could get home. A bunch of kids were messing with the griffins."

Ron worked part time at the wizarding zoo, just outside of Diagon Alley. He had played on the Appleby Arrows as a backup keeper the first 3 years out of school. After injuring himself and finding he had no real skills, he decided to pursue a career in cooking.

Unfortunately, he found himself short on experience. He took the first restaurant that hired him and took the zoo job as an extra moneymaker. 3 years later he still worked at the zoo even though his cooking career was moving up.

He claimed to do it for the children, but everyone suspected it was for the attractive blond who took care of the unicorns.

"Harry! How are you doing man? Not working too hard I hope," laughed Ron.

"Nope, just being lazy like always."

"What are you doing tonight? Fancy a quiddich game?"

"I'm not sure about tonight, but I would love to play any time this weekend."

"Fair enough. Oliver! I didn't even see you! How about you? Fancy a game?"

"Name the place and I'll be there. I'll even give you the home advantage and play catcher."

"Ok boys," interrupted Mrs. Weasley, "You can catch up later but for now your dinner is getting cold.

"Ok mum. Sorry," apologized Ron.

Everyone sat down and dinner began, full of polite conversation and passionate explanations of the twins' new shop coming up.

"It will be called, 'The Witch's Waking,'" explained Fred.

"We want to make a new line of products specifically targeted towards witches," said George.

"Yeah, those witches will buy anything that promises love or beauty or something silly like that."

"It's a goldmine! I don't know why we didn't think of it before."

Hermione smiled and tried to join in their enthusiasm. But her dinner wasn't as smooth as it appeared.

When Ron walked out of the fireplace, it was all she could do to sit still. One part of her wanted to run to him and give him the biggest hug. After all, she had missed him. Another part wanted to leave the room as quickly as possible. A small part wanted to hex him immediately. And the final part wanted to snog Oliver as thoroughly as possible to make Ron jealous. Failing all of these, Hermione sat and smiled invitingly at Ron, hoping he would say hello or even acknowledge her.

He did neither.

At the other end of the table, Harry and Mr. Weasley were holding a very quiet conversation.

"Isn't it great that Hermione and Ron are sitting next to each other?" asked Mr. Weasley.

Harry noticed Hermione's awkward attitude and opted for a neutral reply. "Well it's great to see Ron. We haven't seen him for a while."

"Too true. You know, wouldn't it be great if the two finally got together? Just like everyone always thought."

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley in surprise. He had expected this out of Mrs. Weasley but never from her husband. Looking down, Harry saw an empty scotch glass that Mr. Weasley had refilled at least 3 times. Harry sighed, thankful that this subject was obviously not something a sober Mr. Weasley would breach.

"Hermione and Oliver have a really good thing going. And I thought Ron had a girlfriend," answered Harry, now realizing that their conversation wasn't in private.

"Well, yes but…" Mr. Weasley trailed off but Harry understood. Ron's parents had always believed that Hermione would be their daughter. Since Ron had started dating other girls, they all fit into the same category: not Hermione. Lavender was too ditsy; Anna couldn't be charming; Rachel wore clothing that left little to the imagination, etc. Hermione was their dream daughter-in-law and they still couldn't see why the two weren't married.

Mr. Weasley, Harry noticed, had now moved on to a rousing discussion with his wife on the importance of a lawn mower in the muggle society. Seeing his chance, Harry excused himself from the table, deciding to forget the conversation he had just had with Mr. Weasley.


	6. I think I'm free

"Hermione?"

"Yeah Oliver?"

"I love you."

Hermione smiled and leaned into Oliver's arms. "I love you too."

Oliver sat up a little from his position on the couch and turned so he could see Hermione. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"I have a lovely book calling my name, as are a warm blanket and a certain boyfriend. How about you?"

Oliver's smile widened. Finding Hermione without a full weekend was very rare. "My parents invited us to their summer home to celebrate my sister's birthday. My aunts and uncles and everyone should be getting there around Friday afternoon around 2:00 and then we're having a pre-party party. Saturday is when the real party is, though. Think you'd be up for a Wood family reunion?"

Hermione's smile faltered just a little. She loved Oliver and she loved his family. Really. His parents were so nice and they really liked her and his sister Cecily had been referring to Hermione as her long-lost-sister two years into Hermione and Oliver's relationship. They were amazing people. And so were his aunts. His many, many aunts. And even more cousins. It's just those moments when there are 30-odd people surrounding you, all asking the same questions, "How's work?" "How can you stand living in a city?" "When are you and Oliver going to get married?", that made Hermione want to scream. Sure, she loved board games and charades as much as the next person, unless that next person was in the Wood family. They LOVED board games. And drinking together and telling awkward stories about their love lives. But, Hermione knew that Oliver loved these events and would go because it would make him happy.

"Always," she said.

"Perfect! I'm thinking about making a cake. I heard about this one recipe—potatoes and ginger with this cool carrot and blueberry glaze and for a garnish…"

This is where Hermione lost the conversation. She encouraged Oliver's love of cooking, but sometimes he got a little over enthused. But that is why she loved him. He threw his whole heart into whatever he did. His Quiddich, his Medi-wizard studies, his cooking… and her.

* * *

Hermione slowly made her way through the week. Nothing more interesting than a few exploding toilets and a sneezing telephone. Wednesday afternoon found Hermione packing up her briefcase, getting ready to floo home, when Kingsley stepped into her office.

"Hello Miss Granger." His voice filled the entire room.

"Hey Minister Kingsley," she replied. Formal titles were expected in the workplace, at least Hermione had always thought so.

"I notice that you've been doing a very good job working with our muggle friends. I'd like to thank you for taking your work so seriously."

"Oh! Thank you!" Hermione was a little taken aback. Regardless the ridiculous amount of work she did, she never really expected acknowledgement, or even praise.

"No, thank you. And to show you how appreciative I am, I would like to invite you to the Muggle Magic ball this Friday evening. It isn't as formal as you may think, just some people from the ministry who want to throw a party like the muggles. It should be quite an event."

"That sounds amazing. Something about Friday sounds like I'm busy, though…" For the life of her, Hermione couldn't remember what she was supposed to be doing that weekend.

"It can't be as fun as this, I promise you that. And that brings me to another thought. The folks who want to arrange this little party, well—err—they don't know what a muggle party is like. Would you be so kind as to advise them?"

Hermione sighed internally. More work. "Sure. Tell them to come to me with any questions. Just send me an owl or something."

"Thanks Hermione. Don't know how we'd get along without you."

With a charming smile, Kingsley left Hermione to herself. Still wondering why she had a nagging voice that just kept thinking about Friday night, Hermione shrugged and stepped into the fireplace.

* * *

"Friday night we were going to be with my family, remember?"

And there it was. The reason she shouldn't have said yes to Kingsley.

"I am so sorry. I can talk to Kingsley and tell him I can't."

Oliver sighed a little. "No, you should do this party thing. It sounds interesting and it also sounds like you'd be a big help."

"Are you sure? After all, I could just come to the summer house Saturday morning and then I won't miss the real celebration."

"Yeah, that'd be fine. I'll owl my mum."

Hermione felt bad. She really did. But at the same time, not that bad. After all. This party would give her a change to talk to Harry. He'd been busy, but she was pretty confident she could get him to help with this muggle party.

And the next morning she'd be with Oliver and all would be well.

* * *

"Sorry, 'Mione. I can't I'll be out of town."

"What? Why?" This did not play into Hermione's plans very well.

"Sudden business thing; it's boring. I'll tell you about it later but I really have to run. Take care."

"Bye Harry."

Checklist:

Big party with extravagant decorations, Check

A long list of very important people she didn't know at all, Check

A muggle band who had no idea what the party was really about, Check

A black dress that looked very flattering, Check

A single person to talk to during the night…

And finally, an ex-friend whose father insisted on including, definitely Check

Alcohol, Check, Check, Check


End file.
